


strange exhilaration

by ohvictor



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25606627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohvictor/pseuds/ohvictor
Summary: A collection of drabbles for ChikaIta Week 2020!day 1: overtimeday 2: trustday 3: bunniesday 4: car ridesday 5: double lifeday 6: au day (lancelot/gawain)day 7: free day
Relationships: Chigasaki Itaru/Utsuki Chikage, Lancelot/Gawain
Comments: 10
Kudos: 96
Collections: ChikaIta Week 2020





	1. day 1: overtime

**Author's Note:**

> hello i whipped up some drabbles for chikaita week! this ship is important to me and has gotten me thru a lot, so i'm happy to be able to participate in this event, and excited to see what everyone creates!
> 
> if you recognized the source of the title from just two words: haha theatre kid

At 17:06, Chikage appears at Chigasaki’s cubicle, suit jacket thrown over one shoulder in a mockery of professionalism now that he’s off the clock. Chigasaki does not immediately look up when Chikage leans against the side of his desk, instead continuing to hammer away at his keyboard, shoulders hunched forward. Only when he seems to reach the end of a thought does he sit back with a low groan, shaking the tension from his shoulders. 

Chikage can read the room; he knows the answer before he opens his mouth. “Ready to go?”

“Can’t,” Chigasaki says, his tone as dull as his gray jacket. “Gotta OT. Sorry.”

It does present a minor logistical challenge, in that Chigasaki drove both of them to work that morning. Chikage looks at Chigasaki’s screen, turning his options over in his mind. Chigasaki gazes up at him dead-eyed, and then, after Chikage takes more than a few seconds to answer, he raises his eyebrows.

“Senpai.”

“How long do you think you’ll take?” Chikage asks.

“Probably two hours.” Chigasaki yawns widely and doesn't bother lifting a hand to hide it. Chikage doesn’t particularly care, but it’s anachronistic to see a comfortable display he’s more likely to see in their bedroom now in the sterile air of the office. It makes Chikage wish they were home... But Chigasaki won’t be home for a while.

“Hm.” Chikage pats the edge of Chigasaki’s desk. “You know, there’s a restaurant near here I’ve been meaning to try. Perhaps I’ll hang around and wait for you.”

Chigasaki’s blank expression cracks a little, his gaze sharpening with interest. “What kinda place? Will you bring me some takeout?”

“It’s just a generic famires. Apparently they have good Italian-style food.”

“Bring me...pizza...”

“I’ll think about it,” Chikage hums, which both of them know is a yes. “If I walk over there in a few minutes, I should make it back here in about an hour and a half. Will you be done by then?”

“A time-limited run,” Chigasaki mumbles, eyes trailing back to his computer screen, “with a hefty completion reward... I’ll do it.” 

Chigasaki’s not looking, but Chikage rolls his eyes anyway. “Sure. Text me if anything comes up.”

“Yeah.” Chigasaki’s hands are already on his keyboard. The promise of pizza is a strong motivator, Chikage knows, knew when he looked up the menu for this place after passing it on a walk last week and filed the information away for another day. 

Chikage looks around, confirming that no one’s around, and then dips down to press a kiss onto Chigasaki’s forehead. Chigasaki’s eyes flicker closed for a second, indulgent. Chikage wants... More than that.

“See you,” he says instead, and steps away. 


	2. day 2: trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> contains implied spoilers for act 5 & act 8.

“Do you trust me?” Chikage murmurs, his hands already moving into a defensive position as five Zahran guards lock eyes on the pair of them. He can practically hear Itaru’s heart beating faster, faster. Or maybe it’s his own, fueled by adrenaline at the threat of a fight. There’s no easy exit, no hidden nook he can slot Itaru into, no safety cord he can pull. When he chances a look behind him — he has to know where Itaru’s standing, it’s _tactical_ , it has to be — Itaru’s back is straight, his gaze clear. He catches Chikage’s eyes, in the split second Chikage allows, and gives him a firm nod. 

“Do you really trust me?” Chikage asks, a staticky silhouette in the doorway of Room 103 at too late an hour to speak loudly, his eyes locked on Itaru’s in a confrontation he would desperately rather not be having. Itaru’s phone is in his hands, an echo of another night months and months ago when Chikage also wanted to run as far from this place as he could, and Chikage itches to launch across the room and disarm Itaru, bend his arm behind his head, immobilized. It’s not that he thinks Itaru is a threat — Itaru isn’t one, but something just as scary. Itaru’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows, and he’s nodding without hesitation. 

“Do you trust me,” Chikage grins, holding two bites of pizza in front of Itaru, one covered in paprika, the other with one of the strongest spices in Chikage’s collection. Itaru makes a face at him and grabs for the slice stained a little less red. Too bad; Itaru’s face screws up in a horrified expression as soon as the taste hits his tongue, realizing his mistake. Chikage had, to his credit, tried to draw hearts with the powdered spice, but in the end it just ended up looking like blobs. 

_Do you trust me_ , Chikage thinks, darkness pressing his mouth closed, that and the slow in-out of Itaru’s breathing in the bed beside him, their limbs tangled together in a closeness so precarious it’s making Chikage’s heart beat right out of his chest. He wants to match the pattern of Itaru’s sleeping breaths, the easy push-pull, to melt into the clear trust Itaru’s showing, unguarded enough to fall asleep in Chikage’s arms, but Chikage can’t make his lungs fill, can’t close his eyes just yet. 

“Do you trust me,” Chikage says, thinks, _It’s now or never,_ and drops to one knee, his hands criminally sweaty as he reaches into his pocket for the velvet box. Above him, Itaru’s eyes grow wide as plates, and his hands fly up to cover his mouth. It’s almost comical, but it’s so real it’s almost scary. Chikage’s heart is in his throat as he presents the small box to Itaru, watches as tears fill Itaru’s eyes preemptively. Chikage’s relieved they’re alone, relieved no one else has to see either of them like this, but some part of him wishes there was someone nearby, who could take a picture of Itaru’s expression right now. He barely gets the question out before Itaru’s nodding an emphatic _yes_ and flinging himself into Chikage’s arms. 


	3. day 3: bunnies

“Senpai,” Itaru hums. He’s suddenly leaning into Chikage’s space, his shoulder knocking against Chikage’s. 

“Ow,” Chikage says, though it doesn’t hurt.

Itaru ignores this. “I bought you something,” he says, thrusting a tiny bag into Chikage’s hands. “I was picking up a limited edition KniRoun set at the stationery shop by Veludo Station, and this reminded me of you.”

Chikage could probably guess what sort of object Itaru bought him; Itaru’s love language sometimes tends toward gifts, encompassing small trinkets as well as memes and videos that reminded him of Chikage, tossed into their LIME messages at odd hours of the night, but there are clear themes to Itaru’s thinking. Chikage slits the tape holding the bag shut with a nail and peeks inside the tissue paper padding. Yup, the first thing he sees is tiny green bunny ears. “Wow, a bunny. What a surprise.”

“He says, as if he doesn’t treasure each and every bunny I give him,” Itaru deadpans.

He’s not wrong. Chikage reaches inside the bag properly and withdraws a plastic green pen, the top shaped like a little bunny with glasses and freckles. It smiles up at Chikage, displaying tiny buck teeth. Chikage clicks it a few times experimentally, making the pen tip extend and retreat. Despite the fine detail on the bunny, it feels sturdier than similar pens Itaru has gifted him. The simple design is nice as well.

“I hope this wasn’t too much money,” Chikage offers. 

“Ah, it’s worth it to see your expression,” Itaru says. Chikage looks up at him, trying for offended, and Itaru laughs. “Just for that one second of unguarded senpai approval.”

“I suppose this passes muster,” Chikage huffs. “If a C is passing.”

Itaru snorts, elbowing Chikage in the arm. “At least give a C+. We both know you’re going to use it.” 

“False. I do all my writing on a computer.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 


	4. day 4: car rides

“I have to put on my anime music,” Itaru says, “or I won’t be able to stay awake.” 

This isn’t _strictly_ true, as he generally stays awake while driving just because dying like that would be really inconvenient, but the only thing that makes 8:00 bearable is anime and game OSTs. He turns the car on, anxious for the AC to kick in and relieve the August morning heat, and waits for the car to connect to his Bluetooth.

In the passenger seat, Chikage allows all of this with the resignation of a man who has been commuting to work with Itaru for over a year. “At least put your seatbelt on,” he sighs, buckling in his own. 

Itaru takes this as a victory, and as the first few notes of the KniRoun theme play from the car speakers, he puts his seatbelt on and adjusts his seat compulsively. “Ready, senpai?”

“Just go,” Chikage sighs, tipping his head back against the headrest. “We’re going to be late.”

Itaru backs carefully out of the MANKAI dorm parking area and heads off. The drive to work is twenty minutes when traffic is light, which most of the time it isn’t, but that gives Itaru more time to complain about having to go to work, or listen to music and forget his worries. If he’s the one driving, he can’t gaze at Chikage’s irritated expression either, which is a double-edged sword; he’ll have enough of people being irritated with him during the rest of the day, so why get an early start? Well, because senpai is so _pretty_ , and Itaru can’t get enough of him even though they share a room.

As they merge onto the main road out of Veludo Way, Gawain’s theme comes on Itaru’s playlist. Itaru reaches for Chikage’s arm, tapping it vaguely since he can’t exactly look over there while he’s watching the road. “Senpai, it’s your song.”

“Gawain’s song,” Chikage corrects tiredly. Itaru considers the fact that senpai still correctly identified the song as a win. 

“Do you think it suits him,” Itaru presses.

“Focus on driving.”

“I _am_.”

Chikage sighs. “It suits his character. The instruments complement Lancelot’s theme.”

Itaru wonders if he’s blushing at the fact that senpai remembered Lancelot’s theme. “Yeah, Lancelot has more piano, where Gawain has more guitar. And they both have a strong rhythmic backbone, ‘cause they both have strong morals.”

“Hm.”

The road they’re on now is a straight shot for about ten more minutes, until they reach their exit. Itaru chances a look over at Chikage, just a flick of his eyes. Chikage’s leaning his head against the window, his chin propped up on his hand, and when he catches Itaru looking, his mouth curls in a small frown. “Eyes on the road, Chigasaki.”

“You’re nothing like Gawain,” Itaru pouts, but he does as he’s told. “Gawain would let me look at him.”

“Probably not, since Gawain does not know what cars are.”

“In modern AUs, he does.” Itaru flexes his fingers along the rim of the steering wheel. “Ah, damn it. I think I have a meeting today during when I usually catch my stamina refills.”

“Sad.”

“It is sad,” Itaru groans. “Did you know Banri doesn’t have class at all today? He’s going to sweep way ahead of me in the HGO event.”

“Lucky him.”

It’s a pain, but Itaru can probably catch up to Banri during his lunch break, and then build up a strong lead while Banri’s swamped with uni homework tonight. That is, if Itaru doesn’t have to OT, which he might. Truly, his life is so hard...

As the dull highway scenery outside the windows flashes by, Gawain’s theme fades into one of Mordred’s, the track that plays during one of the castle confrontations in IV. Itaru can’t help but crank the volume up. It’s almost a perfect soundtrack for his pre-work mood, the feeling of imminent downfall, of betrayal waiting in the wings. His fingers itch to replay IV, an ever-present feeling that seems to only intensify the less time he has to actually go through with it. 

Poetically, the last few bars of Mordred’s theme fade out as Itaru’s pulling into the garage underneath his and Chikage’s office building. In the lull between songs, he rolls down his window to touch his badge to the gate reader, swiping them in, and manages to roll the window back up by the time the next track begins. It’s just the credits track for VII, so Itaru doesn’t mind thumbing the audio off midway through. He parks as close to the elevator as he can manage, grateful he’s the one driving; Chikage usually parks pretty far out, making an excuse that it’s for security and not just because he thinks it’s funny to make Itaru walk. 

“We’re here,” Itaru tells Chikage dully, pulling the hand brake. The cement walls and the stale underground air feel like portents of the day to come, and Itaru wishes he could stay in his car and keep listening to his KniRoun playlist on shuffle. He barely gets enough signal down here to load his mobage, though, so if he wants any chance of playing HGO, he has to go upstairs. What a cruel world. 

In the passenger seat, Chikage’s unbuckling his seatbelt and rolling his shoulders, stretching stiff joints. He glances across at Itaru, raises one eyebrow. “Ready?”

“No,” Itaru grumbles.

“Ha.” Chikage leans across the divider between their seats and kisses Itaru. He doesn’t bother lingering, but a trace of his chapstick remains on Itaru’s lips when he pulls away. Itaru’s startled back to reality as Chikage’s door clicks open, and he blinks to find Chikage grinning. “Did I make your haze worse?”

“Ugh.” Itaru rubs his hands over his face, and reaches for his briefcase. “Fuck you.” 

“I’ll see you at lunch,” Chikage says seriously. For a man who’s already started to get out of the car, he looks awfully like he wants to kiss Itaru again. Apparently he perked up on the drive; Itaru’s going to need another cup or two of shitty office coffee to achieve anything similar. “If you can spare any time for me in your busy gaming schedule.”

Sometimes Chikage says this to tease Itaru; sometimes it’s a nudge for more attention, disguised as teasing. Itaru’s not sure which one this is, but better to treat it like the latter just in case. If he doesn’t catch up to Banri’s place over lunch... It’s not the end of the world. There’s something more important — someone. 

He may have spent the drive to work blasting KniRoun, just like he did when he was a new hire, but a lot of other things have changed. 

“I can always make time for my favorite senpai,” Itaru says, and the tiny smile on Chikage’s lips tells him he chose right.


	5. day 5: double life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this drabble contains one instance of implied nsfw. it also contains some pokemon references, which i will explain in the end note
> 
> watch as i take every prompt on this list and turn it into slice of life domestic chikaita

It’s going to be a long Friday. A long day, and a lot of different roles. Itaru looks down at his work shoes, polished to a shine, at his (recently ironed!) work pants. The perfect illusion. He’s playing the salaryman now, the successful elite adult, the competent trading company partner who’ll spend the afternoon leading a presentation that he’s exhausted himself for a week prepping for. Hopefully afterwards he can slink off for a coffee run before his 16:00 meeting; hopefully he can get through the meeting without having to use his brain very much.

Then as soon as he gets home and scarfs down whatever delicious dinner Omi’s made, he has a stream scheduled, live-reacting to the KniRoun mobage event trailer that’s supposed to drop at 18:00. Itaru’s really not emotionally ready for it, particularly since there’s supposed to be a new Gwen SSR — not confirmed, obviously, but she hasn’t had one in months, so like, she _should_ be there — and maybe he used that SSR as a motivator to get through his presentation work this week, and if there’s no SSR all his work will have been pointless, but if there _is_ an SSR, there goes the bonus he might have earned for the presentation, so... So there’s a lot of emotions riding on tonight, is the point. 

And... All of that is so busy, and so exhausting, that Itaru probably won’t get to exchange more than a few words with Chikage until they’re getting to bed. Because Chikage’s banned from 103 whenever Itaru’s streaming, and he’s not on the project Itaru’s presenting on (lucky for him, or Itaru would have tried to pawn some work off onto him this week). And at work, Chikage is Utsuki-senpai, Itaru’s handsome and aloof superior, and even when they’re in the same room, it’s not like Itaru can put his head in Chikage’s lap or drape himself over him like he could at home, in the privacy of their room. It’s not like he can vent to Chikage about his stresses on company time, on company property. They’re just coworkers here, coworkers who take the same route home, nothing more.

They’re adults, so they’ll get through it, Itaru tells himself. It’ll make reuniting for bedtime even sweeter, Itaru tells himself. Neither of these platitudes help at all; neither does the shitty office coffee he chugs before his first meeting of the morning. At least it takes the edge off his exhaustion.

He’s standing dully in the conference room after the meeting ends, gathering up his papers with sluggish fingers, when the door clicks open again. He’s lagged behind the rest of his coworkers, purposefully the last person in the room so he can have a quick breather, and he stiffens instantly at the intrusion. Was this room booked so soon after his meeting? “Sorry, I’m on my way out...” he starts, hitching his polite work smile back up onto his face. 

“There’s no rush,” Chikage says, leaning against the doorframe. Itaru’s breath is knocked out of him at the sound of his voice. 

“Senpai,” he coughs. 

“Hi.” Chikage steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. Itaru’s heart instantly starts to race. Chikage’s not here to start some kind of illicit workplace action, is he? Not that Itaru is, like, _morally opposed_ , but he really barely has enough energy to even walk back to his desk right now, much less—

“You’re overthinking something,” Chikage comments, stepping close enough that he can brush Itaru’s bangs back from his face. “Want to tell me what it is?”

“Just glad to see you,” Itaru manages. Chikage’s fingertips are cool against his skin. 

Chikage doesn’t look convinced, but he drops the topic, reaching for Itaru’s hands instead. “Is everything on track for your presentation later?”

“Should be.” Itaru closes his eyes, tipping his head forward to rest on Chikage’s shoulder. “I’ll go over my notes during my lunch break.”

“You should rest during your lunch break,” Chikage chides softly.

“’S either that or grind GYF.”

“Hmm.”

“Besides, ‘m resting now.”

This earns Itaru a quiet scoff, which is probably deserved. Still, the solid warmth of senpai against his face is immeasurably comforting. Itaru can feel a bit of strength seeping into him at the contact. Not a Full Restore, but maybe a Super Potion. Then again, depending on his max HP, it may be the same difference... Maybe he’s just a Shedinja. Amazing how his brain can retain Pokemon stats no problem, but it took him five rereads to remember the topics for the meeting that just finished, and they’re already sliding out of his brain like water through a colander. 

And too soon for his liking, senpai is disengaging, stepping back and smoothing his suit jacket out. He laughs at the look on Itaru’s face. “Chin up, Chigasaki.”

“Ugh.” 

“Don’t ‘ugh’ me,” Chikage says, but Itaru’s mollified by the fact that Chikage reaches back out to tuck a stray piece of Itaru’s hair behind his ear, like he doesn’t want to leave either. “I’ll see you after your presentation.”

“Like, in the car home, or right after?” 

Chikage raises his eyebrows. “If you wanted to take fifteen and get coffee with me after it ends, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Itaru can’t help but laugh. “How did you know I wanted to do that.”

“I know you,” Chikage says, with the kind of fond expression he wouldn’t have worn back when they started dating. “Just text me when it’s over.”

Itaru steps forward, closing the distance between them again, and kisses Chikage quickly. “Thanks.”

“Get back to work, Chigasaki,” Chikage says, turning neatly on his heel to hold the door open for the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- full restore: what it says on the tin, fully heals your pokemon & cures any status conditions (e.g. poisoning)  
> \- super potion: restores 50-60 HP to a pokemon (50 for gen vi and earlier; 60 for gen vii and onward)  
> \- shedinja: has 1 HP


	6. day 6: lancelot/gawain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3

After a long, sweaty day full of hiking through wetlands, sun beating down harsh on their backs, and a demon ambush that made off with half of Lancelot’s pack, Lancelot’s legs are protesting, and Gareth, still nursing a shoulder injury, looks about ready to keel over. As soon as Gawain notes aloud that the sun is setting, Lancelot seizes the chance to suggest they make camp, and the rest of the party agrees with such fervor that Lancelot worries he should have said so sooner.

“If you set up dinner, I’ll set up camp,” Lancelot tells Gareth, as Gawain heads off to scout the area. The boy nods and scurries off to unpack his supply of pots and pans and whatever rations they have left from the last town. According to the map they should make it to Eastborne by tomorrow evening, where Gareth can receive medical care, they’ll regroup with Gwen and her fairy cousins, and they can restock their supplies. Tonight, things will be a little rough, but Lancelot’s confident in his and Gawain’s strength. They’ll make it through. 

Gawain returns from scouting the perimeter as Lancelot is unpacking their bedrolls. He pads over to Lancelot, his trademark grin plastered on his face, and balks at Lancelot’s expression. “What’s that for?”

Lancelot, seated on the ground and surrounded by the contents of his shredded pack and Gawain’s intact one, gestures. “My bedroll’s gone.”

“Huh.” Gawain plops down next to Lancelot, and takes a closer look at the objects Lancelot’s unloaded onto the ground. “Looks like you’re right. It would’ve been at the top of your pack, right? That thing took a big swing at ya, so it makes sense it’d be the first to go.”

“Right.” Lancelot sighs, stretching out his back. “I don’t love the idea of sleeping on the ground, but if it’s only one night... Maybe I can find a new bedroll in town tomorrow for cheap.”

Gawain’s mouth twists; Lancelot wonders if he’s calculating the cost of a new bedroll, something Lancelot’s not looking forward to either. He turns away, getting back to unpacking, and swallows a wave of guilt for something he had no control over — none of them had seen the demons coming. Really, he’s lucky it slashed his pack and not his head. 

Lancelot’s dumping a few odd spice jars that got packed into his bags rather than Gareth’s out onto the ground when Gawain says, behind him, “You can just share it with me.”

Lancelot turns, giving Gawain a surprised look over his shoulder. “What? The beds aren’t big enough for both you and me.”

“But you shouldn’t have to sleep on the ground.”

“It’s just one night.”

“You’ll be cold if you don’t have a bed,” Gawain insists.

Of all the things Gawain could have gotten worked up about, Lancelot didn’t expect it to be this. “Well... I wouldn’t want to impose on Gareth’s bed while he’s injured,” he explains. 

“Hmm?” Hearing his name, the boy in question comes over, immediately spotting the spice jars at Lancelot’s feet. “Oh, I was looking for those.”

“You should add that galangal to whatever you’re making tonight,” Gawain tells Gareth. 

“Y-Yes!

“There’ll be plenty of room in the bed for both of us,” Gawain says, with such certainty that Lancelot forgets the retort forming on his tongue. “We’ll just have to press close together. ’S warmer like that too.”

With that, he heads over to start making a fire, leaving no room for argument.

Lancelot wishes more than ever that Gwen was here to offer wisdom. 

That night, after they’ve eaten and said goodnight, Lancelot sits by the fire, burned low into orange coals, for his watch. It’s a quiet night, which is for the best, because he spends the entire time feeling jittery for no reason that he can discern. All he can think is that after this he’s supposed to get into Gawain’s bed, squeezing two fully grown men into one bedroll already not designed for someone with a knight’s girth. ... Thinking about Gawain’s girth makes it a little hard to breathe. 

When the end of his watch arrives, he bends over Gareth’s bedroll to wake him, careful to avoid the shoulder he knows is hurting. As Gareth rubs the sleep from his eyes and shambles over to sit by the fire, Lancelot steels himself and approaches Gawain’s bedroll.

Gawain is fast asleep, his mouth hanging slightly open, just enough to expose a sliver of pink between his lips that catches the faint light of the waxing moon above. Lancelot finds himself biting his own lip in response. His hand hovers over Gawain’s shoulder, his heart beating very fast in his chest. He can’t recall the last time it beat this hard outside of combat.

He shakes himself, remembering his purpose, and gives Gawain a gentle nudge.

Gawain’s eyes open, and a sleepy grin spreads across his face. “Lancelot, you came.”

“It’s not like I have anywhere else to sleep,” Lancelot reminds him. 

Gawain’s smile only grows, and he shuffles himself to the side, offering Lancelot a meager half foot of bed and a raised blanket. “Come on in.”

Very gingerly, Lancelot lowers himself onto the bed and pulls the blanket over him. Immediately, he finds that it’s impossible to be both completely on the bed and not touching Gawain at all. This is fine, though, right? Gawain asked him to share the bed, and they’ve traveled together for so long... The fact that it makes Lancelot feel like his body has turned into the orange coals in the firepit, soaked in heat, is immaterial. 

“That’s the spirit,” Gawain murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. He rolls onto his side, facing Lancelot, and before Lancelot can react, he throws his arm around Lancelot and cuddles him closer. His breathing attains the slow, even pace of sleep faster than Lancelot can register what’s happened.

Gawain is warm, warmer than Lancelot thought possible given the chill of the night air. He’s strong, the muscles in his arm strung securely around Lancelot’s chest. And Lancelot’s heart is beating faster than ever, but—there’s a grin on his face, a reckless excitement in his gut. 

He blinks up at the sky, at the crescent moon and the hundreds of galaxies Lancelot doesn’t know the names for. He thinks about having to tell Gwen about this tomorrow, and the Look she’s going to give him, that no one but him will have to see. He can feel his face burning just thinking about it. 

The heat of Gawain’s body is seeping into Lancelot, warming his stiff body from his hours of sitting watch. He can’t help but close his eyes, as much as part of him wants to savor this. And anyway, he can’t imagine he’ll forget how this feels come morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did a lot of googling "medieval ___" here. "eastborne" is from a fantasy/dnd town name generator lol


	7. day 7: free day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this takes place at the end of the day started in day 5. really, most of these can be read as taking place in around the same timeframe. one of the many appeals of chikage/itaru for me is their domesticity, where the rhythm of their lives is familiar and each day provides new opportunities to affirm each other and their relationship through the same routines. thank you to everyone reading these, and everyone participating in chikaita week!

At the end of the day — at the end of the long, exhausting day where Itaru’s had to put on more hats than he realized he owned — it’s a relief beyond measure to change into pajamas and get ready for bed. At nearly 1:00, he closes his stream for the night with a yawn that nearly cracks his jaw, and the only thing keeping him from sagging back in his desk chair and going to sleep right here is the promise of a cool bed and a warm boyfriend if he keeps going a little longer. He tries to text said boyfriend and change into pajamas at once and ends up in a tangle of clothes and limbs, and then settles for opening LIME, sending senpai a single “im done”, and then going back to trying to wriggle out of his shirt. 

He’s shirtless, pajama pants nearly pulled up to his waist, when Chikage slips through the door, his eyes bright behind his glasses. “Did your stream end earlier than usual, or is it just me?”

“I’m fucking tired,” Itaru responds. He picks up his pajama shirt and crawls into it. Senpai looks at him, a telltale quirk of his lip telling Itaru he’d be laughing at Itaru if he thought Itaru’s pride could stand it. “And I have a fucking Gwen SSR _and_ a limited Gawain SR to worry about pulling next week, because the universe doesn’t want me to rest, ever.”

“What does Gawain’s card look like,” Chikage says, his tone mild. 

Itaru can’t tell if Chikage’s actually interested or just humoring him. “I’ll show you when we get in bed.”

“If you don’t fall asleep the second your head hits the pillow.”

“I’ve got enough adrenaline and energy drink in me for at _least_ ten minutes of cuddling, fuck you.”

“Haha, okay.” Chikage steps around Itaru to grab his pajamas from where he’s folded them on the table. “Go brush your teeth. I don’t want the energy drink rotting your smile.”

“What a dishonest way of saying you like my smile.”

“I don’t remember saying that.”

Rolling his eyes, Itaru moves around Chikage to the door, and heads down the hall to the bathroom. He’s so tired that his consciousness barely registers brushing his teeth, muscle memory taking over and carrying him from start to finish. He washes his face and slogs through the bare minimum of his skincare routine, and then stares at his reflection in the mirror, combs his hands tiredly through his hair, and turns to the door just in time for Chikage to enter, pajama-clad, glasses off for bedtime. 

“You look fluffy,” Chikage says. 

“Ugh.”

There’s no reason to hang around the bathroom waiting for Chikage, not when he can wait in bed instead, so Itaru returns to their bedroom and climbs up into bed. His phone is in his pajama pocket, about half-charged, so he opens the KniRoun twitter and idles until senpai returns, which he does with such speed that Itaru wonders if he’s tired too. 

Chikage turns out the lights and climbs up into Itaru’s bed, and immediately makes a show of snuggling up behind Itaru and ignoring his phone screen. 

“You’re such a pain,” Itaru grumbles. “Here, look, it’s Gawain.”

“Oh, really.” Chikage tucks his head on top of Itaru’s shoulder so he can take a quick peek. “Hmm. Lots of detail for an SR.”

“Right?!” Itaru says, because that’s what _he’s_ been saying. “This is for the paid gacha, BTW, so they know exactly what they’re doing to us. And they’re going to get away with it, because I am getting a bonus soon, and it’s going right into End Links’ pockets.” 

“At least treat Spring Troupe to sushi again with whatever you have left after the carnage,” Chikage says. 

“Maybe.” Itaru would treat Spring Troupe to sushi every _day_ if he could. In the darkness of the room, he shuffles closer to Chikage, trying as best as he can as the little spoon to mush their bodies closer. All he gets for his trouble is an elbow bent into a weird position and a quiet laugh from his boyfriend. 

“Don’t laugh,” Itaru mumbles, fighting a yawn.

“You’re cute,” Chikage tells him, starkly honest with the lights off. 

“If I was really cute, you’d be kissing me.”

“Hm. You’d be even cuter if you went to sleep.”

“Gross.” 

“Shh.” Chikage indulges him with a soft kiss on his jaw, and nuzzles into his shoulder. “You worked hard today. It’s time to sleep.”

“Mm.” It’s hard to stay focused on trying to be awake when Chikage’s snuggling him from behind, when the room is dark, when everything about today has been exhausting. Itaru’s eyes close before he can really think to do it. He can bug Chikage to kiss him more when he wakes up, he decides. 

From there, it’s easy to press closer to Chikage and let himself fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/futarinoshoutai) :D


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